


hayride

by pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Series: fictober 2020 [5]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Fictober, Fluff, Flufftober, Hayride, M/M, pumpkin patch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: Baz Pitch wouldn’t be caught dead on a hayride, yet here we are sat on a pokey stack of hay, surrounded by families and other couples, on the third trailer attached to a tractor.Maybe he’d rather be anywhere, but he’s here. Because I am.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: fictober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949911
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88





	hayride

**Author's Note:**

> day five is here~ 
> 
> this one's pretty short, but it just might be inspiration behind a couple more prompts this month 👀

**SIMON**

Baz is trying very hard not to whinge. I can tell by the way he’s clenching his jaw and shifting side to side on the bale of hay we’re sat on. His arms are crossed tightly across his chest and he’s schooled his expression into that typical haughty look he wears. I can tell he’d rather be anywhere but here.

But he _is_ here, which means something. Baz Pitch wouldn’t be caught dead on a _hayride_ , yet here we are sat on a pokey stack of hay, surrounded by families and other couples, on the third trailer attached to a tractor.

Maybe he’d rather be anywhere, but he’s here. Because I am.

It wasn’t that hard to convince him to visit the pumpkin patch, and I’d even talked him into going through the corn maze. (Promising to snog him silly amongst the corn stalks may have helped that.) (But I kept good on that promise, and may have done better if a spider hadn’t crawled into the back of Baz’s pants.) (Note to self: Baz does _not_ appreciate Spider-Man jokes while being treated for a spider bite on his arse.)

I figured a hayride would be a good passive activity after all that excitement. We can just sit here and enjoy the scenery, the cool air of early autumn, the oranges, reds, and yellows of the leaves.

The trail we’re going down is bumpy, bouncing us just a bit as we move. Baz winces and hisses next to me.

Suppose I should’ve considered how a spider bite on the arse would make this experience a bit more uncomfortable.

“Here.” I pull my jumper over my head and hold it out to him. He quirks that damned brow at me and rather than explain I just tuck my hand underneath his thigh to lift his arse enough to stuff my sweater beneath it.

“You’re going to ruin your jumper, Snow,” he argues, and I shrug.

“S’fine. That feel better to sit on?”

He’s silent for a long moment before finally nodding. He acts like it’d kill him to be _appreciative_ , or ruin his image or something.

His image is already ruined. I already know exactly how quickly he’ll give in when I lean in and put one of my hands over the one closest to me, still curled tightly around his bicep. It’s approximately ten seconds before he relaxes, lets me take his hand in my own. He leans further into me when I stretch my other arm out behind him.

Baz’s head is resting against mine and he’s playing with my fingers in his lap, turning my hand over and tracing patterns along my palm. I jerk a bit and giggle when he drags the tip of his finger down the center of my hand; it tickles. He holds onto my wrist and keeps moving; I can see his lips turning up at the corners.

I’m caught between watching Baz smile and watching the grounds around us as we chug along. The sun catches in his eyes when he looks up at me, making him squint and scrunch his nose a bit. I kiss his cheek, perhaps lingering a little longer than I should in public, then we both turn to watch the scenery passing us by.

The sun is getting lower, we’ve been out here for most of the day. The sky was bright this morning and now it’s melting into this pink-y, orange. It almost matches the tops of the trees that it keeps disappearing behind. There’s a large pumpkin sitting on the floor between my feet. (I’ve been carrying it since the pumpkin patch, it was too perfect to risk someone else coming ‘round and snatching it up before we left.) (We’re going back to pick one out for Baz when we’re done here, though.)

It feels like the perfect day.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: [@pipsqueakparker](https://pipsqueakparker.tumblr.com)


End file.
